It was like they’d had a contest to dream up the circumstances she’d feel most horribly small, twitchy and ugly in, and this right here had been the winning idea. All she needed to complete the horror was to have a fit and shit herself across the pristine tiled floor. Everyone was so clean. Everyone smelled so good. Everyone’s shoes were so shiny. They all had these little smiles, worn like masks, so you’d no notion what they were really thinking. They all spoke in whispers, like everything was a secret meant only for particular ears and those ears certainly weren’t hers. At least the Long Eye
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